See No Evil: Tense Conversations (ch. 25) (Patreon)

"I'll… I'll be right there," I told Revy as she vanished behind the curtain. Dragging a hand down my face -- the sudden switch between sublime ecstasy to 'oh shit' mode was a difficult one. Glancing down at Tifa, I saw her cleaning herself up. She caught my look and offered a smile -- I got my orgasm, but she hadn't received hers. If anyone should be disappointed, then it should be her.

Still, she didn't seem disappointed. "Next time," Tifa started, "We're doing this somewhere more private." She decided, and despite the alarm bells ringing in my mind, I couldn't help but smile at that.

"Where the others can't find us," I added. This had happened twice so far, and as much as I wanted to just blow off the fact that Robin and Nightwing were here… I had just enough post-coital clarity to know that I really shouldn't do that. Regardless of how tempting it seemed.

"Good," Tifa agreed. "I'll follow you out in a second," she said, gesturing to herself. I nodded, standing up and redoing my pants. I spared Tifa a glance as I slipped beyond the curtain -- her pale back facing me. It felt like I should say something, like how she blew my mind. But now wasn't the time.

Once I was beyond the curtain, I heard noise coming from outside. A general murmur that came from a bunch of people talking among themselves at the same time, along with some shouting. So, it wasn't just Revy who learned that Jason and Dick were here. Fantastic. Swallowing a sigh, I straightened out my tie as I approached the door before opening it.

Never in my life had I ever heard so many people go so quiet so suddenly. The moment the doors slid open, I felt every eye land on me. It seemed like everyone in 7th Heaven was standing on the platform, closing off any hope of escape for two figures. One dressed in a ratty red hoodie, while the other was dressed in a black and blue designer leather jacket. Revy and Cass stood between them, keeping the crowd at bay. Waylon was unfortunately at Pitstop.

The sudden silence caught the attention of the two figures. Jason Todd glanced back at me, his expression a deep scowl and a glare that didn't suit just how young he looked. But that was nothing new. Standing next to him was Dick Grayson, the first Robin, and now Nightwing.

In DC comics, there was a running joke about how handsome Dick Grayson was. Like how his ass was enough to make a straight man gay and a gay man gayer. Or that time a vampire sucked his blood, then died because of it for some reason, but his final words had been that it was worth it because Dick was just that good looking. It was just one of those gags that remained in place over nearly a hundred years at this point. To the point that being ridiculously handsome was one of Dick's defining character traits.

Except it wasn't just a joke. The guy was stupidly handsome. The kind of handsome that I didn't want to be in the same room with because I would feel inadequate about the symmetry of my cheekbones and jawline level of handsome. The baby blue eyes and the hesitant smile didn't help either.

"So…" I dragged the word out, looking at the crowd. I picked a random face to point at, "You. Feel like telling me what this is about?" I asked, knowing better than to leave it as a general question. I didn't need a hundred voices screaming over each other.

The guy shifted in place, the silence dragging on as he glanced around at the others for support. That's more or less how I felt at the moment. Like someone just chucked hand grenades at me and told me to start juggling. When no one stepped up to answer for him, he finally answered, "They're Waynes. This… this place isn't meant for their kind." He answered hesitantly at first, but he closed his statement with confidence. That sentiment was shared by many, unsurprisingly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason shift. I glanced over at him -- he had a good poker face but it was easy to guess what was going through his head. Dick watched me warily, saying nothing at the moment, but both were ready to spring into action.

I was so not ready to handle this situation… but as ill-timed, as it was, maybe this was a golden opportunity for me. In this situation, I was meeting them as Jason and Dick. Not Robin and Nightwing. If there was ever a time to make a good impression, then it was now. I met both of their gazes for a moment before my eyes slid to Cassandra.

"Someone… get me her wheelchair," I ordered, giving her a pointed look. Her eyebrows drew together into an expression of puzzlement, likely unable to comprehend what I was doing. I was breaking the tension. "She's not supposed to be standing up." There was some shuffling, but the folded wheelchair was passed to me. Taking it, I felt everyone watch me set it up, and the silence was so heavy that it was like no one could even breathe.

Once everything clicked into place, I took a few steps forward, pointedly ignoring Jason and Dick and gestured for Cass to get into the seat. She frowned deeply at me, trying to puzzle everything out. I did my best to appear relaxed, but… that was a little difficult given the circumstances. She hesitated for a moment, but it seemed that she trusted me because she sat down. How she was able to stand with a few bullet wounds in her…

I had been bedridden for a week after the adrenaline had worn off.

"Good. Revy, make sure she doesn't get up again. Or uses her crutches. Her legs won't heal if she's constantly up and about," I told Revy, who watched me like a hawk with an unlit cigarette in between her lips. There wasn't any surprise or confusion in her eyes. She knew what I was doing.

I was taking control of the situation. I was setting the pace of the confrontation. I was establishing that I was in charge.

"Sure thing," Revy agreed easily, stepping forward to take hold of the handles to the wheelchair. That was that taken care of. Which left the time bomb waiting to explode in my face. Turning to Dick and Jason, I saw them both watching my every move.

I looked at them, then my gaze swept over the crowd. "This here," I started, stepping next to Jason and gesturing to him, "Is Jason Todd. Most of you know him from those headlines -- Bruce Wayne adopts a homeless street rat from the depths of Crime Alley." I spoke clearly, letting my voice carry. There was a general murmur at that.

"Now, I'm not sure if you are aware, but Bruce Wayne has a fuckton of money. I am talking shut the fuck up levels of money, folks." I put a smile in my voice before I patted Jason on the back. I was worried about DNA, but if he's been here for weeks, then I'm guessing that he already had hair and skin samples. "Yet, here he is. In 7th Heaven. Now… does anyone feel like telling me why that would be?"

There was a beat of silence, no one wanting to step up to answer. And, thankfully, Jason and Dick were smart enough to stay quiet.

"Is he here to steal our shit? Why would he? It's not like he can't ask Daddy Big Bucks to buy him whatever he wants. Is he here on some kind of deep-cover mission to expose this place?" I asked the crowd, making a face like it could be a possibility. Because that was exactly why he was here. "He's a bit small to be a boy in blue, don't you think?"

I stepped away from Jason, walking towards the crowd, making them edge back a half step as I traced the half circle that they set up around the two Boy Wonders. All the while, I spoke. "Or, maybe he's here for a different reason? You see, Jason is one of us. He's street trash. You can take the kid out of Crime Alley, but you can never take the Crime Alley out of the kid. Because, here he is -- here, in this place, instead of getting blowjobs from models in Tahiti."

I don't even know what I was saying at this point. But the crowd seemed to eat it up.

"Here's the thing -- Jason? He's been coming here for weeks." There was a shift in the crowd at the information. "He doesn't eat the food. He doesn't take the clothing. The only thing he takes is self-defense lessons and they're free of charge." I came to a stop, pointing my back to Jason and Dick and focusing on the crowd. "So… what was the point of this little scene? Kicking the shit out of them for having money? Fair enough, but then what happens? You think something like that will just slide with a multi-billionaire? Or, maybe we kidnap them, hold them for ransom? Only Bruce Wayne has Batman on speed dial, so I'm guessing there would be a few objections to the plan."

I established who Jason was, now I was poking holes in the… plan of lynching a few blue bloods.

There wasn't an answer. There couldn't be one. People hadn't thought, they were just acting on anger.

"I have a better idea," I announced, walking backward. "How about we appeal to their better nature? How about we show them that we might be street trash, but we are not garbage. That we are not animals. We show them that this little slice of heaven is deserving. That everyone here just wants what anyone wants. That everyone here isn't just a bum, or a criminal, or a junkie. That everyone here is a fucking human being and deserves to be treated like one." As my rant drew out, I felt the tides shift away from violence. “When they go home, when they wash off the filth -- let’s make them think that we deserve that.”

Now there was bait on the hook. They were getting something by not attacking Jason and Dick. That fact had more effect than every word that I had said so far. The air of anger that our inner sanctum had been violated -- not by gangs, but something far worse. The wealthy. That air eased away as people saw the light.

“I’m going to have a talk with our guests at the bar to ascertain their intentions. I would very much appreciate it if all of you gave us some space and went about your day,” I requested. It would be a lie if I said I didn’t expect pushback. Someone digging in their heels and refusing to budge until blue blood was spilled. Surprisingly, though, that someone never made themselves known. The crowd dispersed, choosing to vacate the platform entirely. At most, the two intruders were sent dirty looks, but my bullshitting worked.

Within a few minutes, the only ones left on the platform were Revy, Cass, and Tifa when she poked her head out. There was a soft and fiercely proud smile on her face that she sent in my direction. I’m guessing that she thought that was more than dumb luck and appealing to people’s desires for shiny things. It wasn’t anything that I said -- I just pointed out that they would get more if they did less. Easy math.

“Tifa, Revy -- could you make sure that no one gets second thoughts?” I asked, wanting to make sure that the uneasy peace wasn’t broken. To be honest, I hadn’t expected to reach this step. Now… now I had to make a damn good impression on the two of them. Enough so that they wouldn’t kick my teeth in, slap me in chains, and drag me to prison. The two of them nodded -- Revy started to take Cass with her, only for the girl to break away and roll over towards me.

That was more reassuring than it should have been. Wounded or not, I’m confident that Cass could take them in a fight. Though, my pride did take a hit since I was completely relying on a younger, wounded girl that I had shot to save my ass if this came to a fight.

Dick stepped forward, offering a hand and an easy smile, “Thank you for that. You already seem to know us, but I’m Dick Grayson and that’s my brother, Jason Todd.” Jason scoffed at that, but I accepted the handshake all the same.

“Vergil St. Jude,” I introduced myself as if the two of them didn’t know everything about me down to the color of my boxers. I had to pretend that I was completely ignorant of their secret identities. Ignoring the panic I felt, I offered a firm handshake before I gestured to the bar area. “Nice to meet both of you.”

Dick nodded, deciding to follow my lead while Jason trailed behind with obvious reluctance. Both eyed Cass as she rolled next to them, acting like a guard, but they were underestimating her on the account of the wheelchair.

“What brings you here?” I asked, sliding behind the other end of the counter while both of them took seats. Cass took one next to Jason, sliding out of her chair into the stool. I gave them a chance to set their story while I made myself a cup of coffee.

"Does it matter?" Jason asked sharply, and I could hear the frown in his voice. Dick sighed. So, they weren't on the same page.

"It does," I answered, preparing my special brand of coffee. "While I'm sure the two of you don't mean any harm -- not everyone thinks that." Like Cass, for example. Given that she chose to follow me, I'm guessing at least one of them were planning to kick my ass. "Plus, since I'm in charge of the place, I at least have to look like I'm doing something," I said, pressing the brew button before I turned around.

Jason was glaring at me. Dick, on the other hand, seemed pensive. "Like, what do you mean about that?" He asked, appearing slightly nervous. I blinked, a little caught off guard by that before I was forced to remind myself that I was dealing with Dick Grayson instead of Nightwing. Dick Grayson was just a normal guy. As normal as a guy raised by the circus and a billionaire could be.

"Don't worry about that," I dismissed. "Nothing's going to happen to you. If you want to leave, then feel free. I'm just curious why I have two billionaires here."

"Sounds like you think you have me all figured out," Jason pointed out testily. I shrugged. Honestly, even without knowing his background, it would be easy enough to guess why he was here.

"So, you're not here because you heard rumors about this being a human chop shop?" I questioned as my coffee began to brew. Jason sucked his teeth at that, making me let out a huff of laughter. "Thought as much."

Dick looked between us, his lips thinning. "Human chop shop?" He questioned quietly, aiming the question at me.

"Anything that sounds too good to be true in Gotham usually is. When word spread about the place, the rumor mill got out of control. Well, if you believe the rumors, then this place is a human chop shop, a human trafficking ring, and so on." I explained before I grabbed the pot of coffee and made myself a cup. "It's none of those things. Jason can confirm as much. This place is nothing more than a highly illegal homeless shelter."

I went to put the coffee back into the brewer, but I saw Cass was eyeing it. I held it up, cocking an eyebrow before I signed 'drink' at her. Her eyebrows drew together for a moment before she offered a curt nod. It was baby steps to actual communication with her, but she was a fast learner. So, I poured her a cup.

"Oh. That sounds… huh." Dick trailed off, looking around at the place in a new light, smiling lightly when he watched Cass inspect the drink. I signed for her to stop, to let it cool. I thought she would ignore me, but she obeyed the order. "Actually, if you don't mind me asking, how… did you end up in charge of this place? You seem pretty young." He remarked, and I had to remind myself that I was sixteen on paper.

However, before I could answer, Jason piped up. "By joining up with the Penguin Mob." To that, Dick stiffened and his smile became a little more forced. I was annoyed by how he threw that bit of information out like a wrecking ball, but I didn't waste any time doing damage control.

"Sort of," I agreed easily. This was the moment of truth. How this conversation went would determine how they would view me. It would determine my place on their to-do list. My goal was to put myself and this place at the very bottom of that list. "I ended up joining the mob for… other reasons. Ended up in a shit ton of debt with the Penguin, so he's having me work it off. But the gig pays well. Well enough that I can afford to support this place and start-up other revenue streams."

Jason, the little shit, sneered at me. “Save me the bullshit. I lived on the streets and I never got involved in any gangs.” I thought that reaction was a little much, but he could just be poking me. I had no idea.

“You know the score, Jason. Don’t even pretend that you don’t. Sometimes you get an offer you can refuse. Other times you get an offer you can’t refuse,” I stressed the word. “I did what I did to live. And I don’t regret it.” I responded evenly, making Jason’s eyes narrow into slits. So, maybe the heat behind his words were more genuine than I had hoped for.

Dick’s lips thinned, “So… you joined the mob, started this place and Sainthood Enterprises?” He questioned, making me blink at that.

“You know about my company?” I questioned, making Dick’s lips twitch up in what seemed to be a genuine smile.

“Being a billionaire’s kid means I hear about up-and-comers,” He answered, trying to be friendly. From that, though, I’m guessing that he just read that in my file before coming here.

But, I nodded, pretending like I believed the answer. “More that joining the mob and starting up Sainthood Enterprises are meant to support this place. Since I’m dealing with the Penguin, my company is a front that I’m trying to make legitimate. Like I’m pretty sure the Penguin is transporting cocaine in my flower business. Not sure how though.” I dropped the small bomb and both tried to look like they suddenly weren’t hanging on to every word.

A lesson I had learned in high school was how important it was to get your story in first. When it became a he said she said scenario, then whoever got their story in first had the high ground. This was me getting my story in first. I was trying to go legit starting with Sainthood Flowers, but the Penguin turned the store into a front for cocaine despite my wishes. I was powerless to stop him because I was several million dollars in debt.

Which was why I had the cocaine packaging operation set up in a different location. Now, when they went snooping, they would find it and the fact it was separate would support my side of the story.

“And you’re okay with that?” Dick questioned, sounding like he was trying not to be judging when he was judging me. To that, I offered a shrug.

“Couldn’t do anything about it even if I wanted to,” I answered honestly. “But it brings in money. A fair bit. These guys? The people here? No one will hire them. Half of them are ex-cons or on the run. So, Sainthood Construction came to be.” And now it would look like Sainthood Enterprises existed solely to aid the existence of 7th Heaven. “So, I’m rolling with the punches. The Penguin is happy to fork up money because it's a completely separate company, so Batman and Robin won’t think to look in my direction.”

Jason frowned at me, “Why are you telling us this?” He questioned, sounding like he was caught flat-footed. I’m guessing that the knowledge ran against his ideas of what he had expected.

I glanced at him before offering a shrug as I took a sip of my coffee. It was hot, but not scalding hot. “We'll get to that in a second,” I deflected. Jason scowled, but I continued before he could get a word in. “We got a little sidetracked. Why are the two of you here? Jason, I can understand. You,” I gestured to Dick, “less so.”

Dick sent a glance at Jason, “We…”

“Don’t fucking tell him our shit, Dickhead,” Jason snapped at Dick. With the patience of a saint, Dick glanced at me.

“We had an argument. Jason left, and I followed him here,” Dick explained simply, making Jason throw up his hands in disgust. It was my first time interacting with Jason, but it was really catching me off guard at just how… angry he seemed. I knew him best from his time as Red Hood, so I expected anger. Just not like this before his death.

Still, I filed that bit of information away while I thought back. Jason was near fifteen or sixteen. Meaning… huh. I hadn’t really given it any thought until I was sitting across from him, but we were nearing the point that he died. In the comics, he died around this age. In Young Justice, I knew that he died in a time skip because of the meme that the creators wanted to skip straight to Red Hood.

Looking at him, it struck me how young he looked. Without the hood up, beyond the near-permanent scowl… Jason didn’t look any older than thirteen. And he was on track to getting beaten to death by the Joker.

I took a sip of my coffee, mulling it over. “What was the fight about?” I asked, and Jason sneered so hard that I’m pretty sure he pulled something.

“Keep your nose out of our business. It doesn't concern you,” he snapped at me. But, rather than being intimidated by the kid that could without question, batter the shit out of me, I saw a kid that was embarrassed and lashing out.

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” I remarked. Jason stood up, looking about ready to lunge at me. He might have if Cass hadn’t slapped a hand on his wrist, making him freeze up. “You need to learn how to control that temper of yours.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me,” Jason snapped at me. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Dr. Phil? I don’t know the first god damn thing about you, so why in the fuck would I tell you shit about shit?” Jason swore up a storm, an accent entering his voice that made the words that much harsher.

I met his gaze evenly, and I wondered if I just made a very serious mistake. “If you’re asking about my past, then I’m afraid that I don’t have one. It’s some weird birth defect,” I answered, keeping my expression blank. Jason glared, but Dick sighed.

"It's my fault," Dick started, ignoring Jason's indignant 'dude.' "Me and Bruce were… having a rough patch. It's a long story, but the gist of it was that…" Dick looked at Jason, his face set. "I treated you poorly, Jay. It was never about you. I should have never taken how I was angry with Bruce out on you. And when I saw my friends isolating you, I should have stepped up. But I didn't. And I'm so sorry for that."

Huh. Huh. Dick was taking advantage of the fact that because they weren't Nightwing and Robin, thus they couldn't 'escape,' to cram an apology down Jason's throat. That was clever of him.

Jason turned between the two of us as if he couldn't decide who he was more pissed at. "Look, it's done. Whatever." A blind man could see he was just saying whatever it took to end the conversation.

I hummed, taking a sip of my coffee. In comics, Jason had always been a little bundle of insecurities. When he came back as Red Hood, he had been certifiably insane, but his return had shown some very real issues. Like how he had been a Teen Titan, yet there wasn't a memorial for him. That was revealed when he nearly killed Tim Drake. While the Titans didn't exist, it sounded like that issue was still there.

Red Hood had been one of my favorite characters simply because he was so tragic, and a great foil to the Batfamily. However, now I was looking at the bundle of issues that would become that tragic character. I… I wanted to help. If only because having a sympathetic voice in the Batfamily when it came to how important this place was could only help.

"Jay," Dick started, sounding genuinely distraught and frustrated. He was trying to force a connection. To build a bridge that he had already burnt down once before.

"I don't want to be friends with your friends. And we aren't brothers just because of a piece of paper. Leave it alone. And me too," Jason responded testily. "I told you not to follow me but you did, and now I can't come here anymore." He snapped at Dick, making the older teen wince.

He did have a point there. "That might not be the case," I offered, making Jason look at me. There was an opportunity here. Simply put -- the more often he was here as Jason Todd, the less time he was here as Robin. And because his cover was blown, his movements would be far more restricted with so many eyes on him. It was a chance to control his movements in my house. "This place is open to everyone. Show everyone here 7th Heaven is better off with you here and they'll look past the blue blood."

If only because I told them to.

Jason made a face. Dick did too, but his was one of hope rather than irritation.

"And, at risk of getting involved in family drama -- I can't tell you to forgive any of them. I don't know the situation," I told Jason. "But I would recommend giving them some slack. Dick here included. Because, if they prove that they're lying to you, you can hang them with the rope you've given them. Even better, you'll be in the right rather than a foul mouth street rat holding grudges."

"I don't think I like that analogy," Dick commented, looking pensive at the thoughtful expression on Jason's face.

Perception was everything to people. Who was right was determined by bias. As far as I could tell, Jason not forgiving Dick made him the asshole. However, if Jason gave him a chance, and then Dick fucked up, that would make Dick the asshole and Jason the victim.

"I do," Jason responded. I could see it in his eyes that he planned on being an absolute hellion, intent on milking this for all that it was worth. He didn't say that he forgave Dick or anything of that nature. Honestly, he probably hadn't and wouldn't until he saw how far he could push Dick.

But, Dick seemed to take the words as forgiveness. A tension eased out of him as he ran a hand through his too perfect black hair, before he sent a boyish grin at me. "Thanks. Do you charge by the hour?" He questioned, earning a smirk from me.

This was what I wanted. A good impression first before they dug up anything else.

"I'll take a favor," I said, circling back around to the topic we had left unfinished. To that, Dick's smile wilted a fraction.

"If it's about Wayne Enterprises, then I'm afraid that I can't do much. I'm not really involved in the company at all." He offered an excuse. Given that he lived in Bludhaven, that was probably true enough.

I shook my head, "No, it's not about my company. I want to keep everything as above board as I can and getting a favor like that from you now would feel like extortion," I told him. Dick perked up at that, giving a nod to show that he was following along. "I'm asking for some strings to be pulled for this place."

Dick blinked while Jason frowned, "What do you mean?" Dick questioned, looking around again. "Do you need funding?"

That was so tempting. It really was. But I did not need to give the Batfamily more reason to look into this place. That money would be a reason. It was bad enough that they were already here, but Bruce Wayne giving me money would give him a voice in how I did things.

"No, this place is illegal. Very illegal. I don't want you giving me money to blow up in our faces," I refused. "The people here would suffer, I'd probably go to jail, and you'd get some egg on your face if anyone followed the trail of money." As far as a lie to turn down free money, I gave myself a pat on the back for that one.

"Then what do you want?" Jason asked, the edge of anger that had been in his tone fading. And being replaced by curiosity.

"For you to pull some strings with the water and electricity controls," I answered, making both of them blink. "We've been stealing electricity and water for a while now. But between the gang war and winter, we've been growing a lot. We have over a thousand people here at any given time with more on the way, so how much electricity and water we use is going to be discovered eventually. Honestly, it's kinda frightening that it hasn't already," I remarked.

Electricity would be a problem I would be fixing shortly with my cards. Water would always be an issue until I found a way to make it appear from thin air. Both required leveled cards.

"I thought you didn't want us to do anything illegal?" Dick questioned, sounding nervous. The guy missed his calling as an actor.

"I don't want you to do anything illegal for my legal responsibilities. My illegal ones are fair game," I responded, earning a begrudging huff from Jason. From cursing up a storm to laughing at a bad joke. That was one hell of a mood swing. "I just need the numbers corrected. I'm setting up my own means of production, but until then, we're stuck hoping that we don't get caught."

Jason decided for both of them. "Fine. We'll pull a string. We done here?" He asked, standing up. I looked at him, not seeing why he suddenly wanted to leave, but I guess he just saw an opening.

"You've been free to go since the start," I told both of them with a shrug.

"Ah, well, it was nice meeting you, Vergil!" Dick said, offering a smile as he placed a hand on Jason's shoulder. He offered a wave as they started to walk away. I returned it, but when their backs were pointed to me, my smile slipped.

That went… about as well as it could have. I made a good impression on them. And I showed them where my loyalties laid -- this place and the people here. While asking them to partake in a cover-up might sound a bit much, I also knew it would be a simple thing that was well in their influence to do as either civilian or superhero.

Glancing at Cassandra, I saw her looking down at her coffee. Her untouched coffee. Swallowing a sigh, I signed that it was okay to drink, forgetting that Cass would take the order with deadly seriousness. She raised the cup to her lips and I hoped I would find a comrade that enjoyed my brew.

Only for that hope to come crashing down when her lips curled into a frown as she seemed to glare at the cup. Then at me.

I let out a huff of laughter, amused if nothing else. I brought my own cup to my lips and drained the contents in one gulp. "Ahhhhh," I said, letting out a refreshed sigh.

And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason looking back at me when I started laughing at Cassandra's indignant expression as if she couldn't believe that I had actually enjoyed the coffee.

Yeah. That had gone well.